


NorseWorld

by xNelder



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-14 03:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xNelder/pseuds/xNelder
Summary: Westworld-style HICCSTRID story. Dragged to a Viking-inspired experience by his deranged brother-in-law, the park will force Hiccup to discover who he truly is. A beautiful Chief's daughter will force him to question the very nature of his reality, to question everything he's ever known. He was born, she was built, but their fates are intertwined. Can a love, so forbidden, survive?





	1. The Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve wanted to write this for a long time, and especially with season 2 of Westworld, it has just reignited my desire to do so. This is a four-part story, so this will be relatively self-contained, but there may be a sequel at a later date if I get time.  
> For any that haven’t seen Westworld, basically it’s a tv show where humans enter this western-based theme park. In this park, very humanoid looking robots (hosts) are there to satisfy the fantasies of the guests. The show focuses on how these robots are slowly treading the path towards consciousness, and them taking control of their lives away from their creators and choosing their own path. This story will take elements from that, but using a slightly modified HTTYD world as the location. I hope you enjoy :)

The longboat carrying the newest batch of the park’s guests bobbed closer and closer towards Berk, and already the carnage they were seeking could be seen in its full force. Columns of fire rained down as the monsters of myth inflicted their vengeful desires, whilst the war cries of the unyielding inhabitants were as rough as the waves carrying the newcomers closer. Steadily, the boat creeped towards the pier, drawing out the suspense, and most of the breath in Hiccup’s lungs in the process. All he could do was close his eyes and tell himself the simple truth, none of this can hurt me, this isn’t the real world.

When his fiancé, Heather, had suggested that he and his future brother-in-law needed some bonding time, Hiccup assumed going to see a football match or a movie would suffice, but alas he was wrong, as per usual. No, he had to fund the £30,000 a day bill that this ridiculous venture would cost, and all because she saw it as a drop in the ocean from the fortune he had received in his dad’s will. Westworld apparently too tame, Shogunworld too exotic, so of course Dagur had brought him to NorseWorld. A world of bloodthirsty Vikings and even more bloodthirsty dragons. What could possibly go wrong?

Of course Hiccup and his friends had dreamed of going to one of these unprecedented attractions in school, but they couldn’t even afford a day, never mind a week. But now he could pay for a year straight if he wanted, and although he still had a few reservations, that desire from childhood was still burning strong. A place where you can be whoever you want to be, where there are no consequences, no repercussions, it seemed far too good to be true.

He had to admit to himself that he needed this break, but bringing Heather’s brother along was definitely not ideal. Nonetheless, he had vowed that he would make the best of the experience, but seeing the park in person was making that pledge very unlikely. He had wanted to delve past the cosmetics to find the heart of this place. To indulge in the minute intricacies stitched into the park. To uncover its secrets. For after university, he hoped he could work behind the scenes at a place like this.

Shivering on the deck as the Island’s rocky shores came closer and closer, it was already becoming far too real. He looked nervously across at Dagur, but there were no doubts in the man’s icy green stare. The metal breastplate and flashy horned helmet only proved that the flame-haired whack-job was perfectly in his element - a terrifying realisation. Hiccup, though, had never felt more out of his comfort zone.

His wild, auburn hair made any helmet he had tried on painfully uncomfortable, and his lanky frame didn’t suit the standardised armour. Settling for a simple red tunic and leather scaled armour, he couldn’t look more different than the other guests; he knew that wouldn’t be the only thing separating them. He wouldn’t be going in with a sword raised aiming to spill as much blood as possible; he promised himself, he would not lose himself in this world. 

Hiccup could watch on, the dread hanging like a noose, as the park’s largest island welcomed the newcomers with the loudest explosion of the night so far. His eyes followed the trail of sparks as the second wave of dragons pounced upon the village from all angles. Everywhere he looked was a battlefield, and he would just be another soldier. From rocky arches to sprawling forests, Berk seemed to have it all, and all of it seemed to be on fire. 

“Wow,” was all Hiccup could say “It’s bigger than I thought it was going to be.”

Dagur turned to look at him and laughed, “What? This? No!” Dagur told him giddily. “This is just Berk. This is just a taster. There’s much more out there.”

“More?” Hiccup blurted out with wide eyes.

“More!” Dagur confirmed, emphasising the ‘r’. “So much more. Just get me a boat and I’ll be heading out as far out as possible. The further away from here you get, the more dangerous it becomes. I just hope I can reach the end this time.”

“This time?” Hiccup repeated, unable to mask his confusion. “What do you mean, ‘this time?’”

“I’ve been coming here for years,” Dagur said unflinchingly, only to pause seeing Hiccup’s reaction. “What? Sis not tell you that?” He added, and Hiccup shook his head adamantly. “Ah well, I’m sure we’ll be getting up to some stuff here she doesn’t need to know about, am I right?” Dagur grinned, slapping Hiccup playfully on the shoulder.

“Something like that,” was the eventual mumbled response, as Hiccup watched in shock as a blast of purple flashed by overhead, before hitting a watchtower with pinpoint accuracy, lighting it up in flames.

“That’s the spirit, Brother,” Dagur beamed, swirling his sword in his hand impatiently. But when a second plasma blast set a catapult ablaze, he immediately rushed to the side of the ship and stared in awe at the shadow zipping through the midnight sky. “Night Fury,” he murmured shakenly. “My baby’s come home.”

“Your what?” Hiccup asked sceptically, but Dagur’s hands were both raised to the sky, as if worshipping the winged devil.

“My magnificent Night Fury,” Dagur stated, almost with tears in his eyes. “I haven’t seen him in five long painful years, but my baby’s come home. He’s come home to Daddy. And I’m gonna be the first to have his head mounted on my wall. This week just got a whole lot better,” he said, wickedly rubbing his hands together.

“So, you’re going to spend all week hunting it?” Hiccup asked him, with a disinterested shrug of the shoulders.

“WE are going to spend all week hunting it! Nothing better for brotherly bonding,” Dagur cheered, before eyeing Hiccup’s weaponry, or the severe lack of it.

“You sure you don’t want anything other than that ornate shield and a flimsy little knife?” Dagur enquired. “It’s the unholy offspring of lightning and death we’re going after. I can get you a sword, or an axe, or a mace, or a ham-”

“-No, I’m fine,” Hiccup shut him down, making Dagur pull a somewhat sulky expression before he set his face in stone. And when Hiccup repeated, “I’m fine,” it was more to reassure himself than to answer the question, because the ship had finally come to a halt.

As the gangplank descended and slammed down, crazed thrill-seekers charged out and immediately headed straight for the battle. Hiccup, though, barely moved. He was now severely regretting that he’d been convinced to come to this ridiculous place, but he knew it was far too late to back out now. Even as his feet landed on the rickety pier, a part of him would have preferred it to break and for the ocean to swallow him whole. Mangled demonic screeches and howls dominated the sky with enough force to make the ground shake, and with his knees knocking together, Hiccup slowly headed up towards the main plaza. He took one last look back, seeing the boat automatically began to retreat, leaving him stranded. Now he was in the game for good.

If seeing it at a distance was bad, seeing it up close was so much worse. Blood littered the floor in such quantities that the dirt had a permanent red coating, and there was barely a single hut left standing. Multiple times he had to duck under loose talons or dodge out of the way of jets of fire aimed in his direction, and all his fears were coming true. All the safety precautions, all the failsafes, but he was praying he wouldn’t ever need to rely on those to save him. In a less life-threatening scenario, he would have taken the time to appreciate the unsurpassable realism and the astounding animatronics needed for this to be possible, but all he could think about was finding somewhere to hide.

Even on the other side of the village square, Hiccup could hear Dagur laughing. A high pitched, maniacal laugh showing he was clearly revelling in the mayhem. His razor-sharp pristine blade was nothing but a blur as it swung through the air. A light brown pudgy dragon was the first to meet its end at Dagur’s hand, its white belly carved open in one slice before it collapsed into a pile on the ground. And yet, he didn’t look satisfied. He raised his sword into the sky in triumph, as if it to challenge the dragons’ domain, before he stopped suddenly, craning his neck up to sniff the air. 

In a sharp burst, he span and rolled out of the way of the gas cloud about to engulf him, just in time before it ignited. Without fear, he leapt back to his feet and ripped two daggers from his belt as he sprinted straight towards the beast. A twisted smile crossed his lips as he stared at the bright green two-headed dragon charging equally as fast towards him, before in one abrupt move it was all over. Dagur stood at the base of its neck, its two heads parted either side of him with a handle of a knife sticking out of each. He admired the kill for all of a second, before unceremoniously tearing his blades free. A zippleback was a decent trophy, but he was after bigger prey.

Hiccup could quite clearly see why men like Dagur would find themselves at home here. Every aggressive impulse, every violent tendency, that was the key to victory in this period of history, where your size and your skill with a sword would determine your position in the tribe. Kill, or be killed, that seemed the only rule here. And as Hiccup scuttled from behind a burning cart to find cover in the half-charred smithy, he could never have been more glad to be born in the twenty-first century. He just wanted a warm bath and a soft bed, but he had to survive another seven nights before he could get out of this hell.

And it was hell. Everywhere he tried to find shelter would be reduced to rubble no more than a minute at most later, as if the beasts were coaxing him into a fight. He didn’t even get a chance to interact with any of the hosts, as every time he would get close to one of the Viking warriors, they would immediately suffer a gruesome, barbaric death. The chain of fatalities did achieve its purpose though, and Hiccup was thrust back into the action. With his shield in his hand, he kept his head down and ran. He saw the steps, the great stone statues at their base, and the welcoming arms of the great hall itself at its peak. He focused on his path, trying best to ignore the heinous cacophony of sounds behind him, and he darted as fast as he could up towards the colossal wooden doors.

He could feel something tailing him, stalking him, and panic was setting in. The stairs seemed to go on forever, an endless escalator where the top was but a mirage. And when he succeeded in clambering over that last final hurdle, that dream of safety, of respite from the bloodshed, it never came true. The doors were bolted shut, locked from the inside and now he was a sitting duck. He banged and he banged, but they wouldn’t budge. So he banged and banged louder, each fist landing with more weight than the last. On the last strike, he was sure he heard a slight creak on the other end, but he had no time to make sure, for the noise behind him already had him spinning.

The chirp sounded like an exotic bird from some nature documentary, but Hiccup knew he wouldn’t be turning around to see something as harmless as a macaw. Not even close. The dragon stood on two legs and was almost twice his height. Its exquisite blue and gold colouring would have made it almost resplendent in appearance, had it not been for the rows of serrated teeth and the barbed tail wagging viciously at him. Behind his shield, he coiled his fingers around the handle of his small blade, and he waited. But the creature didn’t attack him, it simply swayed side to side, prowling him. It was as if the creature itself was waiting, and its cue to attack hadn’t been activated, but the very next moment… everything changed.

He heard the double doors creak again in the background, but all he could focus on was the vivid yellow flame growing inside the dragon’s mouth a few metres away. The initial ball of fire ballooned in size, becoming a frothing cauldron that overflowed down the dragon’s jaw. Its pupils narrowed to slits, its tail raised pointedly, and then it fired. A trio of foot-long spines imbedded into his circular shield, knocking him backwards, but he quickly regained his ground and began to head towards the beast. He had no choice. He would have to do this. 

He switched his dagger to his dominant left hand and advanced down, his heart racing more and more as the distance between him and the beast shortened with every tentative step. As the dragon pinched its neck back, he dropped to his knees, bracing himself behind the shield as a torrent of fire burst from its snout. But there came no impact, and behind his cover all he could hear was the ringing thud of the double doors slamming open and an even more deafening sound of a feminine battle cry. And when he spared that one glance back, he saw the first thing in this egregious world that that made him want to keep his eyes open.

One glimpse was all he needed to have her image engraved in his mind. Maybe it was because she truly was stunning, or maybe it was just because the sight of her was such a welcome change from everything else he had seen since docking in Berk. Either way, she was the first thing in this world that he found himself studying past the basic superficial details. The glow of the fire provided the light to illuminate her golden braid that twizzled loosely down her back, and the simple parting of her fringe hung over one of her eyes. The tight red shirt hugged her lithe figure, and the brown, leather spiked skirt above the deep blue leggings fit snuggly around her waist. The thick fur boots, hood and vambraces completed her look, and she looked every bit the perfect Viking model.

He would have found her almost mesmerizing, had it not been for the complete lack of emotion on her face. Her eyes were cold, angry, without a shred of joy, and it immediately knocked him back to reality. That no matter how much they were made to look like one of us, they would never be… human. She should be afraid, she should be fearing for her life, and yet there wasn’t even a hint of that expressed through her features. A weapon in hand and vengeance in her eyes. So one-dimensional, so insipid, it just seemed a shame. Why had they gone to all the effort of making something so special, just to make it act like the rest?

The dragon’s blast arrowed directly for her, but with a somersault dive, she evaded the stream of fire with ease. Without letting the dragon fire again, she sprinted across from where she was stood by the doors and took an almighty leap towards the beast, two hands clasping the axe above her head as she sailed through the air. Reacting just in time to avoid a killing blow, the dragon bounced back a step, but it still wasn’t enough to be out of the weapon’s range. The tip of her blade carved its way down, splitting the scaly hide as it left a permanent gash a finger-width deep. The dragon let out a pained squeal, as the unblemished white colouring of its chin was tainted by the deep crimson seeping from of the wound.

Hiccup slowly began to descend, watching on as dragon and Viking traded blow after blow, neither willing to back down. The fluidity of her movement was a sight to behold, her limbs like flowing liquid as she swayed, swirled and vaulted out of the way of the creature’s strikes, before landing a few of her own on the scaly reptile. Both parties fought well, a battle so clearly choreographed, but it did make an amazing spectacle. And when a viscous talon caught her neck, she didn’t look like she felt it. Even with blood trickling down her chest, deepening the red of her vest, there was no trepidation. This woman showed no fear, how could anyone believe this could possibly be realistic?

Even fighting a losing battle, she was yelling and cursing at the beast. Pressed with her back to the dirt, with only the handle of her axe between her and the dragon’s chainsaw of a mouth, still she fought with the ferocity of a dozen men. Chunks of wood began to get nibbled away as the onslaught of teeth never once slowed down. And then, with her weapon being gnawed down enough to look like an hourglass, for the first time Hiccup saw the flash of realisation spread across her face. She was out of her depth, and she knew it. Her time was running out. That slight flicker alone was all Hiccup needed. It showed him there were layers beneath that porcelain exterior, something deeper, something worth saving.

He kept his head down, he raised his shield, and with the last of the steps behind him, he charged. “I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP!” The girl growled, but he ignored her and slammed the face of his shield hard into the side of the dragon’s skull, barging it off of her and almost knocking it from its feet. In a slight daze, its legs got crossed and it had to take to the sky to avoid toppling over completely, giving them a few seconds of calm. She instantly leapt back to her feet and glowered at him, before her sights returned back to the beast. This was her fight, and that dragon’s head would be her trophy. 

A volley of spines was sent in their direction moments later, and only Hiccup’s shield prevented the pair from being impaled. The next thing he knew, the dragon was heading straight for them and its mouth was already a pit of bright yellow. He closed his eyes and raised his protection high again, only for it be ripped out of his hand by the force of her throw.  
“WHY THE HEL DID YOU DO THAT?” She screamed, as her blade that should have landed between the dragon’s eyes was now implanted firmly in the back of his shield, on the floor a few feet away. He couldn’t answer, for he knew his error in judgement had doomed them both. He had faith he couldn’t die here, but he knew her life would be the cost of his mistake, so he rushed forward to make sure that didn’t happen. But as he grasped at the rim of his shield, her hold of her axe handle left them at a stalemate. With the dragon converging on them, an intense tug-of-war ensued, only exposing them further. 

He looked down at her as she frantically tried to pull her weapon free, and the calmness she had earlier was cracking before his eyes. As if everything leading up to this had been ironed out, smoothed until not a single crease remained, and now her script had been shredded into pieces. Had she been destined to bring that dragon down with that throw? Had his interference broken that cycle? Sent her down a different pathway? She tugged with all her might, but it was imbedded deep and she was directly in the line of fire. He needed to do something and do it quickly. 

The dagger left his palm, and before it had hit the ground, his hand wound its way around her waist. Without even thinking, he pressed her against him and span until he could see nothing but her face. There was confusion clouding the bright blue of her eyes and she continued to struggle, but he held her firm. He held her so tightly she couldn’t break free, and he closed his eyes, awaiting the inevitable. It didn’t take long for him to hear the flap of wings and then the explosive burst as the stream of fire struck him from his hip all the way up to his collarbone.

His back was ablaze, but yet it didn’t feel like burning. The sensation was like none he had every experienced, and yet it felt oddly familiar. It could only be described as what you would feel if every single hair on your body had been waxed off in one seamless strip. Clearly Dagur’s statement that you can’t get hurt had been nothing but a lie, for his pain felt very real indeed. And saving her would have been a far harder choice had he known of the searing agony he would have had to endure. Sure, he hadn’t been killed, but there are fates worse than death, and never would he want to relive something like that. It was only her equally tight hold kept him standing, but when he saw the dragon veer back for a return passing, he feared that all his efforts had been in vain. He couldn’t take another hit like that.

She warily raised her head, only to see his eyes wide open, staring flatly past her. She followed his gaze and the sight made her desperately pull at her axe handle once more. This time, he didn’t have the strength to counter it. Both axe and shield came as one, and she raised it like an unorthodox hammer. She broke from his clutches to end this once and for all. The dragon closed in on its target, but it came too close, and in one swing, the front of the shield was slammed against its carved horn, bringing it crashing down to the floor.

The strength of the strike shattered the shield into splinters, leaving her own weapon free to inflict the final blow. A smile crossed her lips as she strode towards it, but she didn’t get far before she was spinning on her heels. Even over the explosions and screeching in the background, she heard the thud as his knees hit the ground. His face was crumpled out of shape, disfigured by the pain he could no longer hide. She had her family’s honour to uphold, and killing the beast would go some way in cementing her family’s rule. But now, ending its life seemed to shift down her list of priorities. He’d took the hit for her. He’d put his life on the line for her. She couldn’t ignore that. She wouldn’t ignore that.

Her axe re-strapped to her back, she was at his side before he even realised it. Kneeling down, she took his hand and looped it around her neck, before she hooked her own around his waist and hauled him to his feet. As fast as she could manage, she guided him out of danger, her head continuously on the swivel, looking out for any threats. She kept watch of the dragon she had downed, but the beast was doing nothing but rattling its head side to side, its spiked crown digging into the dirt as it tossed and turned, seemingly fighting with itself. She stared at its piercing yellow eyes, yet this time something felt different, wrong even. She didn’t see any animosity or venom, instead it seemed to be looking back at her with a strange curiosity, and she had no idea what to make of it. 

She shook her head at the thought and focused on getting him to safety. These were devils. Monsters sent down by the Gods to test them. Thinking any other way was nothing short of treason, yet it didn’t stop her looking once more over her shoulder. But where the dragon had been just a few moments earlier, now there was nothing. It, along with the rest, had taken to the sky, leaving the village in peace, for now at least. Hiccup took her relieved sigh as a cue to look up, and he angled himself to look at her. “Thank you,” he breathed, and her only response was a firm nod.

“BROTHER!” Came a loud call from across the plaza. Not now, Hiccup groaned to himself, but he knew Dagur wouldn’t take a hint. The man in question was practically skipping across the warzone, seemingly unfazed by the corpses strewn across the floor. In his arms was the severed head of a bright red monstrous nightmare, and the creature’s blood was dribbling down his knuckles. He raised an eyebrow at them and then laughed heartily to himself, before he dumped the body part in front of Hiccup’s feet. “Now that was fun,” Dagur said, his glee evident by his beaming smile.

Hiccup went to reply, but he was beaten to it by the blonde at his side. “FUN?” She snapped. “Half my village is dead. All our animals have been taken or killed. All our homes are destroyed. How is any of that fun?”

“Ooh, just as feisty as I reminder,” Dagur chuckled, tapping her patronizingly on the nose. “I’m glad they never change you.”

“Enough, Dagur,” Hiccup warned sharply, to which Dagur simply threw his hands whimsically into the sky.

“Oh, I see, our little Hiccup has the hots for dear old Astrid,” Dagur smirked.

Hiccup rolled his eyes, before giving his response as impassively as possible, “very funny.”

“I don’t blame you if you did,” Dagur told him straight. “The first time I came here, this bewitching seductress got me wrapped around her finger as well.”

“Lies!” Astrid spat at him.

“That’s not a nice way to speak to an old friend, is it? Come on, babe, I’m looking forward to get to know you again,” Dagur said with a sly smile.

Astrid’s expression became flat, as if she was staring right through him. “I don’t know you. I’ve never known you. And the next time you call me babe, you’ll lose your tongue.”

“Enough, Dagur,” Hiccup told him again, this time with a darker edge to his voice. “Just leave her alone.”

“Fine!” Dagur huffed. “If you want the bitch so bad, I’ll let you have her. But just a word of advice, in this world, she’s like a six out of ten.”

“I’ll take that on board,” Hiccup deadpanned, before he felt Astrid shift next to him. He could see her staring almost longingly at a man trundling his way across towards them, and she turned to face Hiccup with imploring eyes.

“Can you stand?” She whispered, and although he wasn’t completely sure, he nodded, allowing her to slide out from under him and run across to meet the rounded figure.

The man’s deficiency in limbs drew Hiccup’s attention instantly. A hammer replaced one of his arms below the elbow, and a peg-leg accounted for the limp, as he made his way towards her. A long blonde braided moustache hung down to his waist, and a bushy monobrow besieged his brow. With a tattered tunic made of fur and a helmet of twisted yak horns, he looked pretty worse for wear, but the relief on his face was clear to see as Astrid bounded straight into his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on top of hers, before he looked past her to see Hiccup and Dagur. Each got a firm nod from the Viking, before he pulled back and cupped her cheeks. “Why are you out here? It’s not safe for you during a raid. You’re my heir, you can’t risk yourself like that.”

“I’m a warrior, I need to help the tribe,” she protested.

“You’re my daughter, and I-“ he began, only to be cut off by Dagur bursting out in an overexaggerated fit of laughter.

“Wait. Wait. Wait,” he kept repeating, unable to speak two words without giggling. “You… You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re in charge here?”

“Chief Gobber Hofferson of the Hairy Hooligan tribe of Berk?” The man proclaimed cheerfully.

“I mean, come on,” Dagur groaned. “At least the host they had to play the role of Chief last time I came looked like one. I’m sure you were the blacksmith a year ago. This is just absurd.”

“I’ve been chief here for twenty-two years, so mind your place, boy,” Gobber stated firmly, releasing Astrid and heading over towards Dagur. “Now, I want to thank you both for protecting my only child, but I will not allow you to insult me or my village. For your accomplishments during the battle, I grant you one request. State anything within reason and it is yours.”

“Hmmm,” Dagur considered. “Well, there is only one thing I want.”

“And that is?” the Chief asked him invitingly.

“Your Island!” Dagur answered, as he drew his sword. The Viking had no time to react, and before he could even take a step back, Dagur’s blade pierced through the Chief’s centre, impaling the man’s heart in one thrust. A loud, synchronous gasp came from everyone watching, with Astrid’s deafening shriek ringing through the air. Gobber teetered on his one foot, before he collapsed to his knees, his hand painted red from where he was clutching his own chest.

“Why?” He croaked out, before he fell flat, his head slamming against the ground as his body went limp.

“BECAUSE I CAN!” Dagur roared, bringing the tip of his blood-soaked sword up to his mouth before kissing the blade. He stood tall, addressing all the remaining villagers. “YOUR CHIEF IS DEAD, BECAUSE YOUR CHIEF WAS WEAK! WITH ME IN CHARGE, I CAN END THE TYRANNY OF DRAGONS. EITHER YOU JOIN ME, OR YOU MEET THE SAME FATE AS HIM!” Dagur proclaimed, as he kicked Gobber’s lifeless body for good measure, and then rose his weapon as a challenge.

The first man to contest him got a dagger through the eye. The next was gutted wide open, making him slump into a pile of his own entrails. And as the madman cut down man after man, his maniacal laughter only boomed louder into the night. With a pile of bodies at his feet, he wiped his sword clean by rubbing it against the back of a fallen warrior and then he raised it into the sky once more. “ANYONE ELSE?” He asked with a grin, and this time no-one stepped forward. “THAT’S BETTER. I AM YOUR CHIEF NOW! LET’S GET DOWN TO BUSINE-“

“AAAAAHHH!” Astrid screamed, rising from where she was hugging her father’s body to charge at him. Dagur, though, didn’t even flinch. He did the exact opposite. As she came barrelling in, he lowered his weapon to his waist and then dropped it to the ground completely. As she came at him, axe raised and eyes full of fury, he smiled at her and then tilted his head up to give her a better shot at his neck.

“Come on, kill me. Do it for your father.” Dagur mocked her, as he dropped to his knees. She raised her weapon and brought it down, only to find herself incapable of landing the strike. The weight of gravity should have led the axe to pick up speed as it descended towards the bare flesh, but the closer to his neck it came, the slower and slower the speed. When metal met skin, it wasn’t even enough to scratch the skin, and Dagur knew he had won. 

She stared down at her own shaking hands, as her precious axe, the axe that her mother had given her as a child, dropped to the floor and landed in the dirt. She looked around pleadingly, praying someone would help, but no-one moved. Hiccup found himself frozen, paralyzed in shock by everything he had just witnessed. In the blink of an eye, Dagur’s hand clasped around her neck, choking her as he lifted her from the ground and left her there to dangle. He seemed to enjoy watching her struggle, seeing her gasp for air as her feet swung wildly. Her fists struck out at him, hoping one would land strongly enough to make him let go, but she was at his mercy.

Hiccup always knew the man had a crazy streak, but this this was downright demented. He had to put a stop to it, and he rushed over as quickly as he could. Hearing her strangled breaths and seeing the life being drained out of her was a sight he couldn’t stand to see, and before it could get any worse, his fist collided firmly with Dagur’s jaw. The power of it knocked the man back and forced him to release her, leaving Dagur wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist. Hiccup kept his fist coiled, expecting retaliation, but there came nothing but a single nod from his opponent. Dagur looked to actually be impressed at what just went down, even chuckling to himself for a moment.

“See. Now you get it,” Dagur said calmly, waving his arms about. “None of this matters. You can do what you want, be who you want. All these things are here for our enjoyment, our pleasure. And this is just the start. You like games, don’t you, Brother? How about we play a little game? I’ll give you an hour headstart, and then you and that whore will be added to the list of things I’m going to hunt. You, her and the Night Fury will be my prizes, and I will get you all before this week is over. I promise you that.”

“You’re sick!” Hiccup scowled.  


“Tick tock. Tick tock. Fifty-nine minutes left on the clock,” Dagur said in a high-pitched jingle. “So run, Hiccup. Run.”

Eyeing Dagur with a deadly glare, he knelt down and scooped Astrid up in his arms, and even though her breaths were weak, she was thankfully still alive. He gave one last look at the twisted smile on the face of the crazed lunatic, before he collected her axe and his own dagger and headed as far from Dagur as he could. The forest seemed the best option, and he found himself sprinting through the trees without daring to look back. He had to find somewhere where she would survive the night, somewhere she would be out of Dagur’s reach.

For what seemed like hours, he bounded through the woods, looking for a cave, a tunnel, or even a bridge to hide under. Anything would do, but with only the stars to guide his way, he had no idea what was around him. The pain in his back had all but vanished, but he had to muster every ounce of strength to keep his legs going. Every few steps, he would glance down at her, and the feelings of guilt only grew stronger. If he hadn’t paid to come to this world, Dagur wouldn’t have been here with him, and she wouldn’t be in this pain. 

With his knees almost on the verge of buckling, he regrettably needed to stop. He knew it wouldn’t be enough, he knew Dagur would never stop, but he was already so far past his limits that he was surprised he had managed to go as far as he had. The hand cushioning her back slowly moved to cushion her neck, as he laid her head to rest on the trunk of a toppled tree. He withdrew his other hand from under her knees, laying her legs flat, and then he crouched down by her. Tearing the sleeve of his tunic, he ripped off a small square patch and then reached to his waist to dampen it. The canteen of water was almost empty, but with what little remained, he poured it all on the makeshift cloth and then reached up to the lesions below her chin.

A red line had materialized around her neck from where she had be choked, and even Dagur’s fingertips had left blotchy spots where his nails had dug into her skin. The gash where the dragon’s claw had snagged her looked worse now than when he first saw it, so he took extra care to wipe away as much of the blood as he could, as he attempted to clean the wounds. There was little he could do without removing her armour, but even in here, that felt strictly wrong. So with a heavy sigh, he finished up and discarded the fabric. Hopefully it would heal a bit by the morning. 

As he tried to bunker down opposite her, the ground was too firm to be comfortable, but he tried his best to get some sleep nonetheless. A clump of leaves was his makeshift mattress, but even that wasn’t enough to make his aching body any more relaxed. He knew he was going to need it, but after a few tedious hours later, he hadn’t caught a wink. His mind was too overwhelmed, exploding with thoughts, feelings, decisions. They were all jumbling around, a muddle not making any sense, but there was only one thing that was constant… Her.

No matter how hard Hiccup tried, he couldn’t pry his eyes away from the sleeping Valkyrie. In her slumber, she looked so innocent, so at peace, and it was tying his stomach up in knots. She was a work of art, a masterpiece, and yet she had been made only to suffer. Created to bear the harshest burdens of this cruel world. They had made her so strong, so brave, so fearless, knowing that those qualities would only be the catalyst to intensify her pain. Born to be a warrior, but destined to be the victim. Her very identity was a fraud, double edged like her axe, and she didn’t even know it. 

With every little twitch, every small, almost unnoticeable movement, she could not have looked more real. These motions that he thought to be so intrinsically human, and yet here she was right before his eyes. From the way she hugged her weapon close to her chest, to the furrow of her brow as she tossed and turned, there was no denying it. She is as real as he is. He threaded his fingers through his hair and sighed, before he held his head in his hands. He shouldn’t care. She’s just a robot with a head full of code. She means nothing. And yet, the more he told himself that, the less he believed it. 

He wanted to study every inch of her, to discover all the ins and outs and how it was possibly she ever came to be. The engineering degree he was midway through had been a gateway for his creative side, and this place had blown his mind far more than he could ever have expected. Where people like Dagur saw nothing but the violence and chaos, Hiccup could see the brief glimpses of beauty in this world. And a prime example of that was mumbling softly in her sleep only a few feet away. He wondered if she was simply powered down or if there were dreams flashing behind those eyelids. Could she feel him staring at her?

His head was swimming with questions, but as soon as one rose to the surface, a dozen more drowned it out. How long has she been here? How many different lives has she lived? How many times has she had to watch her father die? How many times has she, herself, been at the wrong end of the blade? How many times has she been abused? Tortured? Raped? Just from the way she was tightly clutching the handle of her axe, he knew there was definitely something going on in her head, and whatever it was, it was enough to be terrifying her. Could she remember her past lives in her dreams? Could she know the true depths of her torment? But even if she did, it mattered not, for even when conscious, she was still trapped in an eternal nightmare. 

Locked behind the wall of sleep, her gentle stirring caused a single rogue strand of golden hair to stray free from the rest. The loose thread wound its way down her cheek, and her face scrunched up subconsciously in an effort to dislodge it. Her eyelash flickered a few times, batting it away, but it persistently vowed to remain just in the wrong place, threatening to drag her back to her reality. Hiccup watched for a moment or two, before in a few short strides he was kneeling at her side, so close that he could hear her soft breaths before they blew away with the wind. He could feel the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat, in time with the shallow rise and fall of her chest, and he reached his hand up to make sure she would remain in that tranquil realm for a few more hours at least. 

His fingertips grazed across her forehead, propelling the guilty curl of blonde on its journey back to join the flock. Her skin was warm, her hair soft as a feather, as he brushed her bangs fully to one side. She let out a soft purr, and with her face completely unobstructed, he could fully take the time to marvel at her up close. The contours of her rose-tinted cheeks. The shape of her adorable button nose. The small gradual curve of her lips as she smiled for the first time. And in that one moment, that subliminal gesture showing nothing but serenity, his heart had been melted.

He knew it, and because of that alone, he just had to pull away. He couldn’t care for this… thing, because if he did, then it would become a one-way trip. ‘Caring is weakness’, Stoick would tell him, but Hiccup always knew he didn’t have the ruthless instinct needed to become a stock broker like his father. This just proved it. For as much as he wanted to force himself away, he could no longer deny it. For as long as he stayed here, she would be his responsibility. He would not let her get hurt. Not this time. He would keep her safe, and maybe, just for once, he could bring a little happiness to her miserable existence.


	2. The Truth

At some point in the night, Hiccup did manage to turn off, but when dawn broke, he awoke to the cold bite of a blade against his throat. He tried to scuttle back, his vision still hazy, but with his back pressed against a tree trunk, he had nowhere to go. The slight twist of her axe nipped his skin, hastening his rousing, and bit by bit, she came fully into focus. Stood over him, her posture completely rigid, he could see her in full clarity. Her stance was one of dominance, but her certainty didn't extend above her shoulders. Her eyes were large and clouded by doubt, and there was a slight quivering of her lip she was trying her hardest to eliminate.

"Where are we? Where have you taken me?" She asked firmly, digging deeper into his skin.

"Hey. Hey. I'm on your side here," Hiccup replied quickly, raising his hands in surrender.

"My side?" She spat back angrily, leaning over him. "You come to my Island, kill my father, and then kidnap me. How are you on my side?"

"I saved your life," Hiccup protested. "I'm the only reason you're not dead right now."

"Like I'd believe that," she growled at him. "I know what people like you are like."

"People like me?"

She stared down at him and shook her head. "Newcomers. Brutes from foreign lands coming to destroy everything we hold dear. Father warned me of people like you and your brother."

"My brother? Dagur? He is not my brother," Hiccup told her, before he slowly began to lever himself up. Her weapon still tight to his neck, he rose to his feet and looked down at her with eyes of nothing but sincerity. "You have to believe me, I'm nothing like him. I never wanted any of this."

"Then what did you want?" She grilled him.

He closed his eyes, as his shoulders slumped. "An escape from the real world."

"Real world?" She questioned, narrowing her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean? "

I thought they weren't supposed to pick up on things like that, Hiccup thought, but the words that came out of his mouth were far more sensitive. "The world out there beyond the waves, where violence no longer rules."

"It sounds like a dream," she said longingly, momentarily breaking from her inflexibility. "But if somewhere like that really existed, why would you come here? Why come to a place where there is only death?"

"Dagur brought me here," Hiccup said, before sighing heavily. "But… but that isn't the full story. Truth is, I needed a getaway. Your world was supposed to be that."

"My world is a prison, not an escape," she declared. "What could possibly be bad enough to make you come here?"

Sparing a few moments before he answered, he raised his head to look at her. "My dad died a few weeks ago," he told her, his words thick and uneven. "A heart attack apparently. No-one saw it coming," he admitted weakly, and he could feel the pressure of her axe loosen slightly. "He was all I had left, and… then he was gone."

"I'm sorry," Astrid said softly. "You have no-one else?" She gingerly followed up, the last of the hostility fading away. He shook his head, staring down at the ground, even when she had fully withdrew her weapon away.

"My mum died when I was little and all my childhood friends moved away," he said sorrowfully. "I do have a woman back home, but... but…"

"But what?" She asked, when he couldn't complete his sentence.

"It's not real," he sighed. "Whatever there is between me and her, it's not real. It's a scam, a fraud, a lie I tell myself to keep going. And when I marry her, that lie will be all that there is. I could grow to love her, I could try and make it work. I could… Oh God, why I am even telling you this, it's not like you'll even understand," he finished while shaking his head.

"I understand more than you think," she told him firmly. "You'd choose to live like that? You'd choose to trap yourself in a situation like that?"

"At least I won't be alone," he conceded with a sigh. "My future is set. There's no use trying to change it."

"The ability to change my fate is all I've ever wanted. But I don't get a choice," she grumbled, walking over and sitting on the floor a few feet away. "Every decision in my life is completely out of my hands."

"What?" Hiccup exclaimed, taken back just the slightest.

"Daughter of the chief," she said bitterly. "As soon as I was born, father was trying to sell me off to form alliances. But I know who I am. I won't be some obedient, doting wife. That won't be my destiny."

"No it won't," Hiccup scoffed, as he headed over towards her. "Your destiny is to lose to men like Dagur over and over again."

"You don't know that!" She replied viciously, stabbing the base of her axe handle into the ground.

"But I do know that," he said sadly, staring straight at her the whole time as he sat down at her side. "The 'newcomers', as you call them, they always win. It's why you couldn't kill Dagur. It's why I could take that dragon's blast without being reduced to a pile of ash. It's why none of the choices you make matter. To think they do is a mistake."

"The freedom to make my own mistakes is all I ever wanted," she said mournfully, laying her axe down to rest on the ground infront of her. "Just for once I'd like to forge my own path, do what I want to do."

"And what is that? What do you want to do?" He enquired, staring curiously at her.

"All I ever wanted was to be seen as something more than a prize or a bargaining chip. I wanted to be known for my combat in battle instead of my name. I wanted… I wanted to be anyone other than the heir, and now I'm not even that," she snivelled, not meeting his eyes. "I should have saved him. It's my fault my dad's dead."

"No, no, don't say that," he reassured, crouching beside her and laying a reassuring hand on her knee. "I'm sure your father wouldn't want you blaming yourself. You did all you could."

"And yet it wasn't enough!" she snapped at him, shoving his hand off of her. "All the years of training and practice and I could do nothing but stand there and watch him die. I should have just listened. I should have stayed inside. If I had, he may still be alive."

"You don't know that," Hiccup reasoned.

"I couldn't even avenge him," she sobbed, "he'd be so ashamed of me." She slouched, utterly defeated and broken, with nothing left of her home but the axe at her feet. One pitiful reminder of everything she had lost. He tried to get her to look at him, but she turned away. Dabbing her eyes with her vambrace, she wanted nothing more than to hide from the world. Crying is weakness. Vikings don't cry. And yet she had no strength left in her stop herself. No family, no home, no future. What is there left to fight for?

"You are a great warrior, and your father would be so proud of you," Hiccup told her strongly, holding her shoulders to stop her curling in on herself. "But you mustn't give up. You must go on, carry his legacy. Make that new path for yourself."

"And how do I do that?" Astrid asked weakly, looking up at him with watery eyes.

"You have to take every opportunity. You-" He started, only for the sharp noise in the distance to cut him short.

It began as the faintest of sounds, but over time it became unmistakable. Distant voices closing in. Every muffled word that trickled its way towards them only grew louder, and through the thick brush they could just make out a dozen or so Vikings converging on their position. Weapons high and faces blank, the hunters were almost upon their prey. The sight of Dagur leading the scouting party instantly made Astrid leap to her feet, and Hiccup reacted just in time to wrangle the suicidal blonde back.

"No, no, no," he whispered as forcefully as he could, grabbing her wrist to stop her running headfirst straight into danger. "You can't hurt him. You know that. This isn't a mistake you want to make. Please don't do this," he urged her, fighting her every movement in hopes of pulling her away.

"You said take every opportunity," she said venomously. "I'm taking this one!"

"Astrid, wait," he pleaded, tightening his hold.

"He killed my dad and took my Island. I'll kill him or die trying," she growled under her breath, violently shaking her arm to pry herself free. "At least I will die a heroic death. Then I can see my father again in Valhalla."

"I can't let you."

"You can't stop me!"

"I will if I have to," he stated coldly, holding her tight enough to leave a bruise. Hurting her was not what he ever wanted to do, but he couldn't hand her over to Dagur. He would never hand her over to Dagur.

"Why?" She snapped, spinning around to look at him. "Why does it matter? Why do you even care?" She was almost pleading for a reason to go on, a tear trickling down her cheek as she struggled.

"Because I didn't save you just to watch you die!" He replied immediately, and far too loudly to be discreet. "You're the only thing I've seen since coming to this island that has even slightly made me want to stay. Please, I'm begging you, come with me. I can keep you safe. Trust me, Astrid. Trust me," he begged, as he finally released her. "It's your choice: come with me and live, or go out there and die."

Astrid halted in her tracks, stunned he had gave her the ultimate verdict. Pinned between two options that both seemed the right choice, for once she could be in charge of her destiny. She looked over at Dagur, at the crossbow bouncing in his hands with every step and the short future a chance at vengeance would bring her. Stay and fight – she'd been taught that since she could walk. Engrained that deep, it should be the obvious choice, but her feet remained planted in the dirt. Fighting is who she is, who she was born to be, but something about this fight seemed almost pointless. Death is so final, so conclusive, and she had hardly lived at all. Stuck on this wet heap of rock for two decades, she wanted more. She wanted to see more, maybe even reach this world beyond the waves.

Her eyes flicked back to the young man that would be her best hope of getting to this promised land. His eyes were trained on her, but there was an odd softness shining back at her. And he was looking only at her. Not at a chief's daughter, but at Astrid herself. She was no fragile flower that needed to be safeguarded, and he was the first that seemed to understand that. He'd suffered for her, protected her, cared enough to bring her to safety. All he was asking for in return was for her to come with him. His outstretched hand was beckoning her to follow him, luring her in with a promise of hope, and she knew she had made her choice. The heroic death part could wait.

She avoided taking his hand, grabbing him by the arm instead. This is her island, she would be in charge. A bystander to tragedy all her life, now no-one would control her fate. No-one but her. He watched her fly towards him, and he was barely able to release the deep breath he had been holding in, before he was hauled after her. He couldn't even see the ground under foot, nor the path up ahead, but he had faith in her to lead him. The flashes of blonde as she zipped between the trees was his only indicator, a golden flare guiding the way, and he matched her step for step.

Their escape though, it hadn't been unnoticed. Heavy footsteps and screams behind them told them as much. Hiccup gave one anxious look back, but Astrid never faltered. She had made her choice and now she would go through it. Pursued like animals, they headed deeper and deeper, venturing further from the main village than Astrid had ever been in her life. Uphill, downhill, left, right, whatever they attempted to lose their trackers had no effect. But as time wore on, her mastery of the terrain proved the thing keeping them alive. She navigated through the forest with such intense speed that the gap between them and Dagur's posse grew with every stride.

They pushed on with their advantage, strengthening their lead to give them time to find a way out. They couldn't go on forever and Hiccup knew he didn't have much left in him at the rate they were travelling. He pushed on regardless, unwilling to let her down, but the first chance he could find to stop, he had to take it. And when, through a divide in the trees, he spotted a crevice in the rockface up ahead; it seemed the perfect opportunity. Getting Astrid's attention first, he diverted their path up to the ridge and the two of them darted for the opening.

Thick white rock guarded the entrance, but sideways on they managed to squeeze through the passage to discover the secrets on the other end. What they did find was more breath-taking than Hiccup could possibly describe. The small cove was a secluded paradise, a hidden treasure. A pool of water extended outwards from the centre, with only a few feet of grass separating it from the ring of stone enclosing the little utopia. A waterfall poured down from the hill, perfectly clear water crashing down onto the rocks below, and even Astrid was momentarily frozen in the splendour of it all.

The few moments of calm were short-lived however, as Dagur's booming voice echoing behind them brought them back down to earth. Quickly, Hiccup clambered down the steep rocks to the base of the cove, before he turned and offered his hand once more to Astrid. She paused for a moment, as if to consider it, but she didn't need the help. Climbing down was an easy task and she could do it far faster on her own. As her feet hit the ground, she pressed her back against the rock, putting her hand across his chest to hold him flat on the wall next to her. And as the voices closed in, now all they could do was wait…

Eventually the sound of Dagur's chanting withered into nothingness, but even when all had been silent for an hour, Hiccup still didn't even dare to breathe. The danger had passed, for now, but he knew it wasn't over. To say he was truly rattled would be a massive understatement, and his legs felt like they were about to give way. He was about to step forward and give himself some space to sit down, when an almighty screech had both him and Astrid staring open-mouthed into the sky. It started as a black dot, plummeting like a stone, and as it dropped through the sky, it was heading straight towards them. Like a whirlwind, it was spinning wildly, cries echoing in all directions. Barely above the height of the cove, it was able to extend its wings to slow its descent, but it was too little, too late.

The uplift provided a temporary parachute, but it wasn't enough to slow it down, and with a hefty thud it crashed hard into the water. Far deeper than expected, the dragon sunk beneath the surface, before it frantically clawed up for air. In a frenzy of splashing, with all its remaining strength, it fought its way to land. Digging into the bank, it pulled itself out, and after a few staggering steps, it collapsed into a pile on the mud. Hiccup stared in awe; he had never seen anything like it. A blend of a bat and a black panther, it was like one of his childhood stories had come to life; he couldn't take his eyes off of it. Astrid couldn't either, but for almost the exact opposite reason.

As quietly as she could, she freed her axe off her back and without hesitation, she began to creep towards the dragon. Her eyebrows narrowed and her entire face was tense, locked in a fierce grimace. Hiccup caught her advancing out of the corner of his eye, and slowly he began to trail at her side. He wanted to admire it, but he still drew his own knife, just in case. But as he approached, the need for the weapon seemed almost non-existent. The heavy fall into the water wasn't enough to wash all the blood from the dragon's skin, and the cause of its injuries was clear to see. Two crossbow bolts were still firmly lodged in one of its wings, and another was rooted deep in one of its hind legs. Another victim of Dagur, Hiccup thought angrily, and he couldn't help but feel sympathy for the creature.

"What are you doing?" Astrid called out sharply, as he passed her and advanced towards the dragon unarmed. He ignored her repeated calls and continued to accelerate, hoping to get a closer look. With delicate steps, he edged his way forward. There was little to say the dragon was still alive, and the acute silence in that direction wasn't a good sign. Its limbs splayed out in all directions and its chin sunk into the dirt, even its tail was motionless. Even as he approached, he thought it was on its last legs, but as he reached a gingerly hand out to touch its snout, one acid green eye flashed open.

He instantly withdrew his hand away, but before he had the chance to retreat, the dragon scrambled to its feet and towered over him. Immediately perching on its hind legs, it stretched out its wings to full span and let out an eternal roar. The force of it almost knocked Hiccup over, the burst of energy from the sound blowing him backwards.

"HICCUP!" Astrid screamed, running forward at full speed with her axe raised to protect him, but she knew she wouldn't get there in time if it struck. His only defence was to reach to his waist, and for that little knife he had stowed there, but even that wouldn't be quick enough. But as the dragon continued its thunderous rumble, he noticed something in an instant. Something that - with everything he had learned since coming here - didn't make sense in the slightest. With every screech, the beast was moving back, not forward. It was as if it was trying to escape.

There was a slight purple glow in its throat, and yet Hiccup didn't feel to be in any apparent danger. The dragon's eyes darted between Hiccup and Astrid feverishly, and as more pressure was put on its back legs, the more pained its roars became. Like an abused animal, it was almost cowering as it continued to try to warn them off. Its attempts to intimidate them becoming increasingly pitiful, as its initial deep roar had diminished to a weak whimper.

As Astrid caught up to him, Hiccup held his arm out, blocking her path for the moment. There was more going on here and he knew it. Tentatively he began to advance, and as he did so, the dragon scuttled back faster. Its movements were jagged, its body shaking from the exhaustion and the deep damage it had suffered. In its eyes, Hiccup could see the truth. It was scared. Scared of him. Scared to die.

Not wanting to spook the dragon further, he slowed his approach, but being backed into a corner was the last place the dragon wanted to be. It let out one last fierce growl, before it labouredly flapped its wings and attempted to glide over their heads to freedom. That was the idea at least, as after a few seconds of flight, its injured wing buckled and once more the night fury came hurtling down to the ground. This time it didn't have the luxury of landing in the water, and it hit the floor with a deafening crunch.

Astrid once more took this as an opportunity to exploit its vulnerability and rid her island of one less pest, but Hiccup had seen enough to know this was the perfect chance. This dragon could be the key to unlocking this world, if only he could somehow tame it. Maybe he could, for the first time, unite the dragons and the Vikings, or one dragon and one Viking specifically. A promising idea in his mind, but the look in Astrid's eyes showed a different story. Between training the dragon and getting her to help him do it, she would definitely be the hardest part.

He knew she wouldn't listen at first. Knew she'd argue and fight it with everything she had. But he had to at least try. If she could change, if he could change her, maybe then he wouldn't feel so wrong about the way he felt about her. Strong, smart, brave, beautiful, determined, deadly. She was everything he could have imagined, but there was that last little hurdle was stopping him. He just needed that last piece to complete the puzzle. The final bridge that had to be crossed. He needed her to be… alive.

"Let me," Hiccup told her firmly, ripping his knife from the scabbard and heading directly for the dragon. Astrid, taken back by the sudden change in his demeanour, stopped dead, giving him the time needed to make his move. The dragon was laying on its side, its neck stretching up to the sky and its wounded wing tucked tight to its body. Hiccup held the weapon firmly, even more so as the dragon stared at him the entire way. Even as he got within striking distance, it didn't move, as if it was accepting its fate. Letting out a sad croon, the dragon closed its eyes and rest its head on the ground once more. Its fight was over.

But as it expected the killing blow, Hiccup's knife hit the floor. The first thing it saw when it re-opened its eyes was the dagger laying in the dirt, and then the hand came into focus. From a couple of feet to a mere few inches, the fingers kept closing in, but then they stopped. Hiccup, knelt down in front of the rare dragon, held still. This was no pet; it was as wild as can be, and now he needed to know what choice it would make. As much as he wanted to touch it, to feel the texture of its skin, he needed to wait. Wait and see what it what do. Would it try to bite him? Would it ignore him? Would it light his hand on fire? Or would it…

Scaly yet smooth, the warmth fused into his palm, as the dragon pressed its snout against him. Never had he felt anything like it. Running his fingers over the odd surface, it was as if he had formed a special link with the creature. Its slitted eyes now were wide and open, trusting even. It was incredible. How he wanted to savour the moment, but there was no time to linger on the current achievement. He hadn't killed it, but he was far from saving it. If Dagur was the one that had shot it down, he wouldn't be far behind. Hiccup knew he didn't have long.

Astrid's mouth was so wide open she could have swallowed a dozen flies. Even if she did, she was so transfixed on the insanity before her eyes she wouldn't have even noticed. He didn't kill it. He didn't even try to kill it. Instead, he was… petting the dragon. Petting. Like a dog. She was furious, so completely charged in anger, all because she couldn't make sense of it all. Dragons were… are the enemies, she corrected herself. They killed her Uncle, Fearless Finn Hofferson, when she was five. They killed half of her village. They… They are evil. They have to be.

Hiccup slowly moved around the dragon, resting his hand gently on its wing. Its head tracked him, following him as his hand headed towards the first of the two bolts. As Hiccup coiled his fingers around the wood, he looked over to see the dragon was already watching him. Before he could even ask, a few bobs of its head up and down answered his question. Incredible, he thought to himself. Everyone has missed the entire point of this place. These are unbelievable, intelligent creatures, and all everyone wants to do is kill them. This world is so much more than I could have ever expected.

In three quick, sharp pulls, Hiccup removed all of the bolts, and each distressed yowl made him feel even worse. With the job done, he made his way back to the front of the dragon, who thanked him for his help by giving him a sloppy lick the length of his face. In disgust Hiccup ripped off the gooey liquid that clung to his skin, but as he washed his face in the fresh water of the cove, there was no hiding the smile on his face. Turning back, he found the dragon on its feet, licking the stretches of its wing it could reach, but as Hiccup came closer, it immediately snapped around to face him.

Once more, Hiccup reached his hand out, and without hesitation, the dragon pressed its snout into his palm. He had managed to gain the trust of this magnificent creature and the idea of that alone was something totally unbelievable. His grin as wide as ever, he had found his place in this world. And as to prove that, the dragon mirrored him, its features contorting into a gummy smile, solidifying their bond. A big overgrown puppy, it was almost bouncing, its tongue lolling wildly in its open mouth. So giddy, so unthreatening, it didn't even have rows of teeth to at least make it look dangerous.

"Toothless," Hiccup murmured.

"Hiccup, what is this? What are you doing?" Astrid asked fiercely, despite the nagging doubts choking her words as she spoke. Behind Hiccup, the dragon had retreated back to the feral creature she had always known. Its mouth filled with glistening white fangs, snarling at her. Its back hunched, ready to attack. Its tailed curled protectively around Hiccup's feet. She held her axe firmly, unwilling to move first in this stalemate, because she was so completely lost by all she had seen.

"Astrid, please. I know you, I know what you've been through. All I ask is that you give this a chance. Let me show you," he said softly. With an almost stern look, he turned to face the dragon. The lines of teeth were a surprise, but the name had stuck instantly and the dragon would have to deal with it. "Toothless, Astrid. Astrid, Toothless," he introduced, probably the weirdest thing he'd ever done in his life.

With short steps, Astrid tentatively began to approach. The dragon always in her eyes, she kept herself on her toes, even with the reassurance of Hiccup nodding warmly to her. She could never trust a beast like this, but him, she trusted him.

"Lower your axe, and then place it slowly on the floor," he instructed her calmly. "Show him you mean no harm."

Her immediate response was to huff at the request, but in his eyes there was something she couldn't escape. Whatever it was, it was true. Unbridled and unclouded, as if he needed her as much as she needed him. He needed her to do this, and she was lowering her axe before he mind even recognised she was doing so. Her mind was telling her that the moment she dropped the weapon, the beast would strike, but her mind had been in charge for twenty years. Almost instinctual, almost irrepressible, she had let her heart take over for the first time, and she didn't even want to fight it.

She could see the change, the immediate shift in behaviour as she placed the axe on the floor. Where before stood a devil over Hiccup's shoulder, now sat a dutiful protector, almost docile. The years of suffering pulled her feet back as she closed in, but she kept going as if she had no memories before this day, no memories before she had met this impossible, world-shattering stranger. The second she had met him, everything had changed. Everything she had ever known had changed. This was her life now. He was her life now.

It didn't stop the fear though, and the closer she came, the flashes of her past came hurtling back. But she could do it. She is Fearless Astrid Hofferson, she could do it. But as she took the last few steps, the dragon's ears twitched upwards and down snapped its teeth. Astrid shook in panic, jolting back for her weapon, but before she reached it, she heard the laugh. The cackle of a man deranged, and it sent a shiver down her spine. Looking up to the cove entrance, she saw him. And this time, they couldn't escape.

"MY NIGHTFURY AND MY PRECIOUS ASTRID! THANK YOU FOR SERVING THEM BOTH ON A PLATE, BROTHER!" Dagur yelled, leaping down to be at their level. And he was the first of many, as men flooded through the entrance, blocking the only way out.

"GET BACK!" Hiccup warned, as Dagur and his men began to encroach towards them, trapping them in their place as the entire cove began to fill up with murderous Vikings.

"Honestly I expected a better challenge from you, Hiccup. You always think you're so much smarter than everyone else. See where it gets you," Dagur laughed, pointing his crossbow at Astrid.

"NOOO!" Hiccup screamed, instantly sprinting towards her, but in an explosion of purple, the weapon was ripped out of Dagur's hand. Toothless followed up the salvo with an additional trio of blasts but using his own men as shields, Dagur evaded them all. Astrid had no time to let the fact that the beast she was born to kill had saved her life sink in, as the loud thump of Viking boots drowned out everything else. With her axe back in her hand and belief in her heart, she jumped right in.

Hiccup found cover behind a rock, as arrows aimed in his direction missed him by a hair. He had his knife, but he didn't want to use it. He shouldn't have to use it. Glancing over the boulder, he could see Toothless knocking men down with plasma blasts, like pins at a bowling alley. Astrid was cutting through her fair sure as well, but the swarm seemed to never end. Soon he feared he'd have to get his hands dirty.

Dagur skipped through the carnage, lapping up the mayhem as he made his move. Toothless was fighting with teeth and claws, battling with all his might, but Dagur's previous attack had left the dragon weakened. So much so, when Dagur charged at him this time, there was little left Toothless could do to counter the assault. Sword raised above his head, and a twisted smile from ear to ear, Dagur plunged down towards the dragon's neck, only to be wrestled away a fraction from impacting.

Hiccup barged Dagur away, landing on top of him by the edge of the water. With a guttural groan, Dagur threw Hiccup off, jabbing him in the stomach as he leant over him. Hands prized around Hiccup's skull, the psychopathic pride in Dagur's eyes as he applied more and more pressure was clear. And it was terrifying. For Dagur, this wasn't a game. It had never been a game.

"You see, brother. I always win. I ALWAYS WIN!" Dagur chanted, only for a black shadow to sweep him off his feet. For a few seconds Dagur flew, a golf ball with Toothless' tail as the club. With a crack of bone, Dagur ploughed into the rock face, slumping down in a jumble of limbs. A few final whimpers of, "I always win," was all that Hiccup could make out, before Dagur drooped into unconsciousness.

Hiccup immediately scanned for Astrid. He needed her to be safe. He needed her. He was about to run to her, when Toothless brushed up alongside him and lowered himself to the ground. Oh, Ohhhhh, Hiccup mumbled, realising the dragon's intentions.

"No. I can't. I shouldn't," he told himself, but seeing her outnumbered and in trouble made the final verdict a certainty. "I have to."

Crawling onto the dragon's back, he hung to Toothless' neck tightly, and without a warning, the night fury zipped into the sky. He had little time to experience the joy of the flight, and clung onto the dragon with everything he had. He could feel the full force of the dragon's blasts, as pockets of enemies were decimated. He could see man after man falling, but it was never enough to keep her safe. After all the smoke had cleared, all that remained of Dagur's army were three men. Three men with Astrid as their hostage.

Unwilling to fire again, in case she was accidentally hit, Hiccup instructed Toothless to land. The injuries the dragon had sustained severely obstructed manoeuvrability and steadiness, but without the bolts jammed into its wing membrane, Toothless dropped Hiccup off without a hitch. Her own axe pressed to her neck, the coward of a Viking stood behind her, a sick grin on his face. Hiccup could see the terror on her face; but the determination in her eyes gave him the hope he needed.

The other two Vikings, as was their idiotic tradition, charged headlessly into danger. Hiccup didn't flinch back, even as Toothless' shots sent both to an early grave. They are unimportant. Mindless. Meaningless. Bodies without a soul. But as he looked at her, he saw the opposite. She is different. Special. Alive. And that's how she would stay.

"Get away from her," Hiccup stated, cold and firm.

The man, grizzly with a bedraggled beard down to his stomach, shifted on his feet, holding the weapon tighter to her. "Give me the dragon's head, and she can keep hers," he said hoarsely, staring Hiccup down. "A Night Fury head will make me a legend in the village."

Eyeing the man with such disdain that it would have made Dagur jealous, Hiccup advanced forward. He fumbled with his belt for a moment, tucking down his sleeve his last resort. "Fine," Hiccup eventually answered. "But I am unarmed, so you'll have to do it yourself. Just let her go and the dragon is yours."

The man snarled at Hiccup, before shunting Astrid forward to keep her between them as he moved towards the dragon. Hiccup raised his palm up to Toothless, calming him down, as he watched the Viking's every move. Keeping Astrid as his barrier, the man's smile grew wider, seeing the dragon at his mercy, but the second he allowed the axe to slide away from Astrid's chin, he had given up his only leverage.

She took this chance, elbowing him in the stomach the moment he pulled it away, but as she tried to pry herself free, he clutched tightly at her braid, preventing her escape. With a growl he rose the axe, and for a second she thought it was all over. The weapon though, it didn't move towards her. It didn't move it all. It remained in place, in the man's hand, for a few moments longer. When she turned around, she saw the man there, his eyes glazed, and the axe falling from his fingers. She saw his hand reach up towards his neck. Saw the dagger, still lodged there. Hiccup's dagger. And as the man fell to his knees, she saw Hiccup himself behind him. His hands were shaking, his fingers painted red. He had done it… for her.

"We need to go," Hiccup said, his voice wavering, as the man at his feet croaked his final breath. "Before Dagur wakes up."

Astrid could only nod. So many things she wanted to say, to get off her chest, but no words would come out. They seemed stuck in her throat, lumps too big to swallow. Everything was so jumbled up, blending opposite emotions into one, like everything she'd ever known had been a lie. Every rule, every lesson she'd been taught was imploding in her mind, like life was rewriting her very beliefs. Her core drives cracking under the weight of the new revelations and through the gaps, the new Astrid could see the light. She would be a slave no longer.

Hiccup clambered onto Toothless' back, rubbing the dragon's chin affectionately for keeping both him and Astrid safe. Toothless was purring like a cat under Hiccup's touch, now so full of life and joy, it was almost a miracle considering how he looked when they found him. Hiccup just hoped lightning could strike twice. Bracing himself for the possibility of rejection, he slowly turned around to face her. This was it. This was the moment that would change everything. With a deep breath, he extended his arm out towards her.

"Trust me, Astrid," he spoke softly. "You said you wanted to create your own path, then do it. All your life, you've been told these are monsters and devils, prove them wrong. Prove only you can choose your destiny."

It was as if everything in her life had been building up to this moment, even though this was the first day of her rebirth. She had refused his help before, pushed him away, but this time all her inhibitions were long gone. This time, there was no delay, no pause, no moment to think about which choice was right. There was only one option. Almost skipping over, she clasped his hand firmly, and in one fell swoop, she was behind him. Hands gripping his waist, her head cushioned against his back, she had never felt so sure of anything as she did right now.

As Toothless zipped into the sky, Hiccup closed his eyes and relaxed into her hold. The breeze against his face, the adrenaline in his veins, and the girl of his dreams behind him. Even as Toothless broke through the clouds, Hiccup was so lost in the fantasy to even see the world below. The soft feel of her hands against his chest, the velvety feel of her hair on his neck, it was as everything was meant to be.

When the dragon levelled out, Astrid was first to gaze around. A cacophony of colours bursting in all directions consumed them, as if they were flying through a rainbow. Blues, greens, purples; the northern lights were something both could just stare at for hours. Up here it was peaceful, calm, perfect. Even as the icy wind threatened to chill her, his warmth protected her bare arms from the cold. She could barely control her emotions, the deep sense of bliss erupting within her core, and she hugged him tighter as Toothless soared gracefully through the night sky. Was this Valhalla? She questioned herself, for this was the single best experience of her entire life.

Where they were heading was a mystery, but as far away from Dagur as possible was the unanimous vote. With only the stars to guide them and no set course, the flight could have lasted for hours, but as a small island appeared on the horizon, the need for a good night's rest brought them back down to Earth. They had been through a lot, all of them, and time to recover had to take priority. Toothless' tongue was hanging out blissfully as he zipped silently through the dark, but Hiccup didn't want to push the dragon further than he had to, so with regret, they began their slow descent.

As soon as Toothless' feet touched the sand on the rocky beach, Astrid was off and bouncing. "Wow. That was just… amazing," she blurted out excitedly, laying a hand tenderly on the dragon's head. "He's amazing." Toothless practically melted under her hand, nudging her even more once Hiccup had dismounted. "I never thought… I could never have imagined… It makes no sense," she finally stated, before turning to face Hiccup. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For saving me. For showing me the truth. For giving me this second chance," she answered, stepping towards him. "For freeing me from my cage."

"I… I…" He started, but the slamming of her lips against his knocked the air from his lungs. Like a statue frozen in place, he didn't even respond. Too stunned, too confined by the limits of his mind, he wasn't prepared. He wasn't prepared at all. He needed time. Time to ponder, time to make the right choice. But what is right? What is real? He had a life, outside this place, and with one move he wouldn't be able to return to it. He would be trapped. Would this prison be worse than the one waiting for him back home? His future wife, cold as ice, or Astrid, who is fire made flesh. And the more he thought about it, he realised he couldn't put out the flames.

But before he got the chance to act, she pulled back, holding her head in her hands while she backed away. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Your girl back home. Your betrothed. Your real life. I was stupid. I shouldn't have done that," she stammered. "I'm sorry." He reached out for her, but she was already running. He called after her, but she wasn't listening.

"Toothless, stay here," Hiccup told the dragon, who simply huffed back, before curling up on the rocks.

The glinting of the metal on her armour was his salvation as he chased after her, keeping her outline just in sight. Along the beach and into a secluded cave he followed her, entering slowly with the only sound being his calling of her name.

"Astrid. Astrid. Astrid," he whispered into the dark, only to turn the corner and find her slouched down against the wall. This far in, only the barest slivers of light could enter, but her defeated expression was clear to see.

"You have to go back. You have to go back to her," she said miserably, speaking to the ground.

He hurried over to her, easing her up to her feet as he cupped his hands under her chin. "Astrid, I don't want to go back. I don't want her," he stated with the purest conviction. "All my life I've been pushed this way or that, dragged in directions I don't want to go, trying to be something I'm not. I've made it work, I've followed the rules, but you've made me feel more in this last day than I had in my entire life."

"Hiccup, I-"

Her faint breaths caressed his skin as he pressed his forehead to hers. Gone were the boundaries, gone were the doubts, gone were the thoughts that he could possibly repress his desire. "Coming here, seeing the life I could have. A life with you. I can't go back to what was before. With you, I've never felt so alive." His lips grazing hers, he whispered the last few words, " I choose you, Astrid, only you."

As soon as the last syllable escaped his lips, her taste consumed him. Her warmth, the inferno in her soul, it was filling the hole inside of him. Love or lust, maybe both, it didn't matter. Her kiss was breaking the chains of his own reality, just as much as his was breaking hers. Her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, enveloping them in their own little cocoon. Deep, passionate, unrelenting, a duel for dominance neither wanted to give in. The feel of her molten skin against his own, the pulsing blue of her eyes, she had completely enchanted him.

His fingers snaked through her hair, the softness of the strands swallowing his hand whole. He could feel every curve as his body pressed against hers, suffocating him in a bubble of bliss as he savoured her scent. Lips mashing with the ferocity of a thunder clap, not even the need to breathe dared split them apart. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, his own gliding down her braid, whilst his other hand curled around her waist, leaving no space between them. The cave was a smouldering cauldron, but the intensity never slowed. Roaming hands, wandering tongues, there was no stopping it. An insatiable craving too powerful for its hold to be broken.

She was taking him somewhere new, an intimacy so foreign. Each touch electric, each kiss magnetic. A shameless ecstasy surging through his bloodstream with every moment. Hot breaths, soft moans, a bliss more addictive than any drug. Her shoulder plates hit the ground first, chiming with a metallic ring. Her skirt followed, smothering his already discarded belt; everything else joined the pile not long after. And as the stars glistened, and the moon smiled down upon this world, the night bound them together.


End file.
